Tuesday, 27 September 2011

The Connaught Rangers Mutiny in India

The Connaught Rangers were organised in 1881 as the county regiment of Galway, Leitrim, Mayo and Roscommon. Their two battalions were merged into one in 1914 following heavy losses at Mons and Marne. They also fought at Aisne, Messines, Armentienes and Ypres that year. They were moved to Mesopotamia in 1916 and Palestine in 1918 before being separated again into two battalions, the First being sent to India in October 1919. Nearly all the men who mutinied in 1920 were veterans of the Great War.
The Connaught Rangers were well known for their marching song, It's a Long Way to Tipperary. The 2nd. Battalion sang this song on 13 August 1914 as they marched in parade order through the streets of the French port of Boulogne on their way to the front. War Correspondent George Curnock witnessed this incident and his report of it was printed in The Daily Mail on 18 August 1914. From that day, that music-hall song, written by Jack Judge in 1912, gained popularity amongst all the troops during the Great War.

On Sunday night, 27 June 1920, Joe Hawes, Paddy Sweeny, Patrick Gogarty, Stephen Lally and William Daly (we shall meet his brother ‘J. J.’ later, the man who was executed) met in the canteen, Jullunder barracks, NE India, in the foothills of the Himalayas. They were veterans with twelve years service. Joe told the others of his experiences in Clare where he had been on holiday the year earlier and where the British authorities were stepping up repressive measures, theoretically against the republican movement, but where they proved elusive, beating and even killing likely looking young men. Newspapers and letters that had arrived the previous day told of the atrocities being committed by the ‘Black and Tans’.

The next morning, 8am 28 June 1920, William backed out, but the other four went to Lance Corporal John Flannery to give him the names of their families. They anticipated there was a high chance that they would be shot out of hand for what they were about to do and trusted him to get the true reasons for their execution to Ireland. They then reported to the guard room, asking to be arrested because they no longer wished to serve in the British Army. The news of their action spread fast, small groups of excited men could be seen standing in every direction, others were running here and there.

At 9am when the rest (46 men) of their ‘C’ company was parading, Jimmy Moran of Athlone stepped out of ranks and asked to be put in the guard room also. Twenty-nine other men also went with him, including the duty guard himself and his arms. The atmosphere in the guard room was giddy, with those in the crowded jail singing rebel songs and ‘Up the Republic!’ loud enough to be heard across the barracks.

Above James Daly Later that day ‘B’ Company (200 men) arrived at the barracks and hearing the singing halted at the guard room rather than march past. Their commanding officer, Col. Deacon arrived and told ‘B’ Company to wait while he addressed those inside. He was about to make a serious mistake, in his belief that regimental pride would solve the developing problem. He had those in the guard room come outside and form a line in front of him. He made an improvised, and to his own mind, very moving, speech in which he appealed to his own 33 years with the Rangers, their great history, the honours on the flag. Just at this point Joe Hawes stepped forward, interrupting him and said ‘all the honours on the Connaught Flag are for England. There are none for Ireland, but there will be one after today and it will be the greatest honour of them all.’ One of the mutineers, Pat Coleman, overheard the adjutant mutter to the Sergeant Major ‘when the men go, put Hawes back under arrest.’ Coleman shouted out ‘you won’t get the chance of Hawes, we are all going back. Left turn! Back to the guard room lads!’ Col. Deacon was in tears as over a hundred members of ‘B’ company ran over to the bars of the guardroom windows to talk excitedly with those inside. These soldiers were armed and they urged those inside to come out. This was a critical moment. A personal decision made by four soldiers to leave the army became a fully blown mutiny of some 150 soldiers. Those inside poured back out to cheers.

The officers ran. They went first to ‘D’ Company and cancelled its parade in the hope of keeping them out of the mutiny. The rebels on the other hand, went to the regimental theatre where the bugler sounded assembly thus circumventing the officers as almost the entire 500 members of rank and file of the Connaught Rangers present at the barracks fell in. For the first fifteen minutes the meeting was completely chaotic with men chiming in as they felt like. Then a committee was elected, with a proposer, seconder and show of hands. All the votes were unanimous: Paddy Sweeny, Corporal James Davies, Patrick Gogarty, Lance-Corporal John Flannery, Jimmy Moran, Lance-Corporal McGowan and Joe Hawes. John Flannery was elected spokesperson.

The meeting was then dismissed with the decision made to obey only the committee and not any officer. The seven leaders then quickly came to agreement as to their aims and methods. Their priority was to make the protest known to the world. In the meantime they resolved to retain their arms, double the guard of the barracks, guard the alcohol, change the union flag to the tricolour, form special flying sentries to patrol the grounds at night, appoint a guard over those men who did not wish to join the mutiny – for their own safety. A reassembled meeting after dinner voted on each of these decisions, which were then taken to Col. Deacon. Meanwhile green, white and orange rosettes appeared on the mutineers’ breasts.

The commanding officer of the Jullunder barracks was Lt. Col. Leeds. He arrived and on hearing of the mutiny sought a meeting with the two main leaders: Flannery and Hawes. ‘Do you realise how serious this is?’ He pointed out the consequences of mutiny for those involved and added that in the current climate it could act as a signal for a rising by the native population. To this Hawes responded ‘if I am to be shot, I would rather be shot by an Indian than an Englishman.’ This statement was noted by the adjutant, along with the disrespectful attitude shown by Hawes’ smoking a cigarette throughout the interview.

Flannery’s response to this argument was later to go to the bazaar and explain the mutiny to the local traders, who expressed great sympathy and made green white and orange cloth available. Flannery reminded the Indian merchants of the Amritsar massacre the previous year (13 April 1919, the British Army opened fire on 10,000 unarmed demonstrators and festival goers, killing 400 and wounding 1200) and said that ‘the same forces were shooting down our fellow countrymen and women in Ireland.’ One of the merchants replied ‘had I a few divisions of men like the Connaught Rangers I would free my country in a very short time.’

Major N. Farrell of ‘B’ Company next attempted to form up his men. Joe Hawes ordered them back to their bungalow. The men obeyed Hawes.

On the morning of the 29 June Col. Jackson arrived at the barracks, as the representative of Sir General Munroe, C. I. C. all of India. A white flag flew from his car. Jackson was surprised when he found a disciplined parade lined up. He met with the leaders and told them that the barracks would be retaken ‘even if it requires every soldier in India.’ He pointed out that they were encircled and had nowhere to go. He also urged them to consider the danger from the native population.

The British army had indeed moved fast on news of the mutiny. On 1 July two battalions of the Seaforth Highlanders and South Wales Borders along with a company of machine gunners and a battery of artillery arrived at the camp in full battle order. Jullunder was not a walled-in barracks. The rebels had no chance of further resistance.

Having called the men together, they advocated passive resistance by all, with the aim of preventing the execution of the leaders by sticking together until all were dismissed from the army. Everyone had to right to leave at this point and some eighty men did so, but the other 420 cheered the Irish Republic, including the English soldiers, and surrendering their weapons, marched out to a prison camp, lead by John Flannery. Along their route the newly arrived soldiers marched beside them, arms ready. The internment camp was guarded with barbed wire and a machine gun post. The camp was deliberately set up in a foul area near a cess pit. It had inadequate shade and water. The prospect of disease breaking out was a very real one and the mutineers were all suffering various degrees of sun stroke, 30 – 40 men were seriously ill after two days. They were saved from any deaths by the intervention of the medical officer of the station, Dr. Carney, who threatened to resign unless they were moved to another site.

On 2 July they were marched to another, walled, compound. Major Johnny Payne was the officer in charge of the move, he was drunk and angry. Half way there he called a halt and said ‘I am going to call out twenty names, and those men are to fall in at this spot.’ The names he then shouted were the seven committee members and thirteen others. No one moved. So Payne pointed to Tommy Moran and ordered his troops, 30 South Wales Borders, to pull him out. The mutineers closed around Moran and protected him. The soldiers who tried to push into the crowd were knocked over and disarmed. Payne ordered the rest to fix bayonets. He called out the 20 names again. Still no response. Then he gave the order ‘five rounds, stand and load.’ He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and said ‘I am going to shoot ye fuckers.’ In a violent rage he turned to his men. ‘When I drop this handkerchief fire and spare no man. Shoot them down like dogs.’ Someone shouted out to him ‘you can do your bloody best.’ At this moment the seventy year old army chaplain, Fr. Livens, a Belgian priest came running over. ‘Major Payne, in the name of God what is this all for.’ Payne replied ‘I am going to shoot these men.’ The priest turned to them. ‘Are you ready to die?’ All answered ‘yes.’ The priest then stepped back with us. ‘Fire away Major Payne, I’ll die with them.’ A horseman was coming fast from the barracks blowing a whistle. The major waited for him. It was Col. Jackson. In front of all the mutineers he shouted at Payne. ‘Who gave you the orders to do this major?’ Without giving him a chance to reply he continued ‘get away out of this and take those men with you.’ The massacre had been averted.

Due to the harsh conditions and heat sickness a number of mutineers gave up. Then a group of English soldiers came to the committee saying that seeing as some Irishmen were back in the service, they wished to withdraw. Some English soldiers, however, stayed with their comrades until the very end.

By 7 July the authorities were able to separate 47 mutineers from the rest. These were driven to a compound with a machine gun on the wall and no tents inside. For two days they had no food or water until Dr. Carney came. ‘Stick it out Hawes, I’ll get you out of here soon.’ He whispered. The next day they were brought back to the barracks by lorry and placed 5 to a cell. The rest of the mutineers were then paraded and addressed by Col. Jackson. He offered them the chance to return to their ranks without any reprisal or mark on their record. From the cells the leaders shouted at the men not to obey, but their spirit was broken. They fell in to their respective companies like a flock of sheep. One man was left alone on the parade square, Lance Corporal Willis. Major Payne left his position. ‘Willis, you and I fought together in the trenches. Why are you so foolish. Those men over in the cells are going to their deaths. I will give you five minutes to consider and if you fall in with the loyal men I will do everything I can for you.’ There was a short interval, before Willis replied. ‘I would rather die with the men over in the cells no matter what kind of death it is than fall in under you, with this shower of bastards here.’ Willis was then marched over to the cells under escort, accompanied by the wild cheers of those inside.

The 48 were sent to prison in Dagshai for months, awaiting court martial, where they were joined by Jim Joseph ‘J. J.’ Daly (from Mullingar, Co. Westmeath) and 40 men from Solon. These men were also Connaught Rangers, 300 men from ‘A’ and ‘C’ Companies had been based some ten miles from Jullunder and when they heard of their comrades’ action they decided to join the mutiny. The 40 had taken over a bungalow and hoisted the tricolour. They had been persuaded by the camp priest, Fr. Baker (who also wrote a short memoir), to leave their arms in the armoury, but the officers had placed two of their own, Lt. Walsh and McSweeny as guards. When rumours came that troops were approaching the mutineers decided to try and take the armoury. Daly led a rush, hoping their numbers would dismay the officers, but both opened fire. Pat Egan, a mutineer was shot through the chest but lived, another mutineer, Sears, was less fortunate, dying in front of the officers. So too was a private Smith, not a participant and some distance away, but a bullet hit him in the head and he died on the spot. Fr. Baker intervened to stop the shooting, with the armoury still in the hands of the officers. Then Fr. Baker and Daly went to the hospital with the wounded Egan. Daly asked the doctor for a drink but Fr. Baker noticed something and said ‘I’ll drink a little of it first.’ At which point the doctor spilled it all. With the arrival of loyalist troops the mutineers were arrested.

Due to the sympathy of the Indian lavatory cleaner and the barber of Dagshai jail, followers of Ghandi, six men made a break out while Paddy Sweeny kept the attention of the guards on the sky with a discussion of astronomy. They walked the six miles to Solon and made off with canteen supplies, especially cigarettes. ‘J. J.’ wanted to burn down the whole of the stores but Hawes pointed out that the men in jail would then miss out of their share of the haul. Hawes also commented in his testimony ‘it might be wondered why we did not make a break for freedom that night or any other night, but you must remember that we were in an alien country, thousands of miles from home, even unable to speak the language. Everyone would be our enemy both the king’s men and the native Indians to whom none of us could explain our position over the language barrier. Soldiers were not popular in India at that time.’ They crept back in with their loot which was distributed to all.

A core group of 16 men were brought to trial 30 August 1920. Sadly many Irish soldiers bore witness against them. One English sergeant spoke for them and when asked by the court why he joined the mutiny when he was not Irish, he replied that ‘these men had stood beside me in the trenches and were my comrades.’ At the end of the trial Flannery cracked and handed up a statement written in pencil on poor quality paper. When it was read out his comrades rushed at him and had to be driven back at bayonet point. Flannery claimed that he only acted as spokesman for the mutiny in order to moderate it and prevent any deaths. It also meant that he could keep officers fully aware of developments and the thinking of the men. The prosecutor immediately declared that ‘I hope the Court will not accept the statement of Lance Corporal John Flannery because it is obvious that he is only trying to lighten his own sentence at the expense of his comrades.’ From this incident onwards Flannery was kept in a guard room outside the main gate of the prison. He and Hawes never spoke to each other again and even when, much later, in the 1970’s the Irish State wished to commemorate the mutiny, Hawes refused to attend if Flannery would be present.

61 men were sentenced, with 14 (including Flannery) getting the death sentence, the rest terms of imprisonment from 1 to 21 years. Helped by the situation in Ireland, where British policy was changing from repression to negotiation, the C. I. C. of India commuted all the life sentences except for that over ‘J. J.’ Daly. He was shot on 2 November 1920 by a firing party of London Fusiliers. There was a rumour that the local Indian population would attempt to storm the jail so several miles around the jail was put under curfew. Daly gave his few belongings and a last postcard to Hawes. It is available in the Military Bureau and is nearly indecipherable with very many crowded scrawlings that seem to oscillate between real dread and comforting thoughts about the cause of Ireland. Daly was the last British soldier shot for mutiny, but his was not quite the last execution. August 1943 witnessed the hanging of three Indian mutineers and in January 1946 a British soldier was executed after being convicted of war treason.

After negotiations between the Provisional Government of the Free State and the British Government, all prisoners were released 9 January 1923. The mutineers were later honoured and given pensions by the Irish state.

Sunday, 25 September 2011

The Indian to whom I owed my life a second time, and who had braved the wrath of the fiends to snatch me from a death, in comparison to which all others pale into insignificance, the tried friend, whose friendship stood as a shield between me and petty persecution during my captivity, I shall ever hold in grateful remembrance. To him I owe the only hours of contentment that were vouchsafed me during seven years of existence; seven long years of toil and mental anguish. How can I picture to the imagination of my readers the noble qualities of head and
heart with which this child of nature was endowed? He was a rough diamond, and it was only by the attrition of constant intercourse that his best qualities displayed themselves. Physically he was perfect; his movements were instinct with that grace and ease that are the attributes of those alone whose lives have been spent in the cultivation of all exercises that look to the development of the muscles.
How vividly his image presents itself to my mind as I write; his body, which was nude to the waist, except on occasions, when religious observances demanded peculiar attire, was streaked most fantastically with different colored pigments. The head-dress, that consisted of two war eagles' plumes, one dyed vermilion, the other its natural hue, served only the more to distinguish a head that would have been conspicuous in any company.
Suspended from his neck by a massive chain hung a disc of beaten gold, on which was rudely engraved the figure of a tortoise, the symbol of priesthood. Pendants of gold depended from either ear, and his arms were encircled above the elbow with broad gold bands. The limbs were encased in leggings of dressed fawn skin, ornamented along the seams with a fringe of scalp-locks; a guarantee of his personal bravery. Moccasins worked into grotesque designs with beads and porcupine quills covered his feet. Pervading all like an intangible essence was that ever present frank bearing and dignified courtesy, that at once marked him as a chieftain and ruler among [men. Such was the medicine man of the Camanches and the high-priest Quetzalcoatl, Wakometkla.

With returning consciousness, I found myself extended along the sward, the Indian kneeling by my side and holding in the palm of his hand some crushed bark, of a peculiarly pungent and aromatic odor. Clustered around me were a group of savages, who, judging by their menacing looks and excited gestures were not wholly pleased with the new turn which affairs had taken.
One among them, emboldened perhaps by the unconcern of the chief, approached more nearly, and unsheathing his knife, raised the long, glittering, and murderous looking blade in mid air, preparatory to burying it hilt deep in my unresisting body. In a moment Wakometkla was on his feet, his proud form dilating with wrath. Grasping the culprit by the throat, he hurled him from him with tremendous force, sending him reeling through the crowd and to the ground; then turning to those that remained, he administered a sharp rebuke and motioned them away; they dispersed without delay, leaving me alone once more; the priest, meantime having entered the temple.
I could distinctly hear the crackling of the fagots and the agonizing wail of some poor victim, as the greedy flames, leaping higher and higher devoured his quivering flesh. Intermingling with the groans of the dying captives could be heard the triumphant yells of the blood-thirsty savages, which were echoed by the women that everywhere
filled the terraces of the lodges and temple; their bright-hued robes forming a striking contrast with their dark complexions.
Over this scene of butchery shone the sun, which had now reached its zenith, in all its unclouded brilliancy; the mountainous walls of milky quartz that enclosed the valley, catching his beams and reflecting them in myriad prismatic hues, that gave one the impression that he was in some enchanted domain.

The priest soon returned accompanied by a young girl, who bore in her arms a quantity of roots and strips of long bark, and placing them on the ground at my feet commenced applying them, first the leaves, then the bark, to my limbs. Soon I was swathed and bandaged like a mummy; which operation being performed, I was taken in their arms and carried inside the temple
.

Descending a ladder we entered a darkened chamber, the walls of which were hung with robes and curious devices; passing through this room I was conducted to an inner apartment which was partitioned off by a curtain of buffalo robes. In the corner of this room was a couch on which I was placed. After giving the girl some brief directions, the priest left us, the girl following him, after having brought me an earthen vessel filled with a dark liquid, which I understood by her gestures I was to drink. Such was the magical effect of the leaves in which my burned limbs were bound, that I no longer felt any pain, and
taking a deep draught of the liquid, I was soon asleep
.

I must have slept many hours, for on awakening I found that it had grown quite dark, the only light being supplied by a small bluish flame that was dimly burning on a tripod in the center of the room. My attention was attracted by the peculiar furniture—if such it might be called—of this strange place.
The walls are hung with hideous shapes and skins of wild beasts; in which ever way I turn, I am attracted by odd shapes, such as the fierce visage of the grizzly bear, the white buffalo and panther; while interspersed among the horns of the cimmaron, elk and bison, are grim idols carved from the red claystone of the desert. All these, I feel sure, are the symbols of a horrid and mystic religion.
The fumes of the charcoal begin to affect me, my head grows hot; the pulse beats quicker; I fancy I hear strange noises; I think there are animals moving on the stone pavement; the fitful flame discloses a shining object, whose sinuous and gliding movements betrays the presence of the dreaded crotalus; it approaches my bed; its bead-like eyes glittering with a baleful light
.
My terror and excitement have now become agonizing; the veins stand out upon my forehead like whip cords; I am bathed in a cold perspiration. Making a mighty endeavor, I free my feet from the thongs that bind them, and springing from the bed, rush wildly towards the center of the room.
Once the sacred fire is reached, I can partially protect myself by scattering the glowing coals on the floor, and fight the reptiles with what they dread the most. In leaving the couch my foot becomes entangled, I give a sudden jerk, and to my horror and dismay, pull down a section of the fur-covered wall; a sight discloses itself that curdles the blood in my veins and thrills my frame with a paralyzing honor.I have disturbed a nest of huge serpents! They move; uncoil themselves, and join the crotalus; suddenly the room seems alive with the venomous creatures. I hear the dreaded rattle and the sibilant hiss; rushing toward the fire, I seize the tripod and dash it to the ground, scattering the glowing embers in every direction. My fright becomes terrible, and I imagine the monsters are crawling over my body. With the frenzy of despair I rush to the door that leads out of this chamber of horrors, all the while uttering the most fearful shrieks. In a twinkling I am confronted by Indians, bearing lighted torches; taking in the situation at a glance, they enter the apartment, chase the serpents back to their hiding places, while I am hurried away to less disagreeable quarters. I have passed through many thrilling adventures, but for unparalleled horror, this one was without its peer.

The following morning, I was taken into the presence of the priest. That something of unusual moment was about to transpire, I felt sure, from the general air and appearance of those in the room.Wakometkla was seated on a throne, around him were grouped a number of chiefs in all the bravery of war paint, plumes and robes. It was the council chamber, and I was about to go through the ceremony of adoption into the tribe. It might have been interesting had I understood their tongue, but as it was, I played the part of a puppet.

The profoundest silence reigned throughout the apartment, and the gray dawn, stealing in through the door of the lodge, pervaded the room and made it colder and more desolate than before. A chief advanced to my side, and muttering something in which I could only distinguish the words "Americano" and "Quetzalcoatl," led me to the foot of the dais. Wakometkla arose and addressed me at length; then the warriors formed in a circle and moved around me, accompanying their movements with a wild sort of chant.
A young boy and girl, standing on one side supplied the music, using for this purpose an Indian drum, which produced a monotonous but rhythmic sound. This ceremony over, I am again led out and my clothes stripped from my back; substituting in their stead leggings and moccasins only. My body is then besmeared with paint and oil. My hair is shaved with scalping knives, leaving only a small ridge on my head, that ran from my forehead to my neck. Thus disguised and regenerated, I am again led into the presence of the chief, who embraces me, and waving his arm a young warrior advances with a
necklace, shield, bow and quiver, tomahawk and lance; these are given to me in addition to a tobacco pouch filled with k'neck k'nick, the Indian substitute for tobacco.
Thus accoutered, I am once more placed in the center of a circle, this time outside of the lodge; a small piece of turf is removed and the savages again commence their incantations. The dance is exceedingly grotesque, and consists of a series of yells, jumps and jarring gutterals, which are sometimes truly terrifying. Every step has its meaning, and every dance its peculiar song. When one becomes fatigued by the exercises, he signifies it by bending quite forward and sinking his body towards the ground, then withdraws from the circle; when all have retired in this manner the dance is ended, and all that remains to make me one of them is branding.
During these ceremonies, I often wondered why I should have been singled out for adoption, when there were others who would, in my opinion have answered their purposes so much better; the Mexicans, for instance, with whose language they were familiar, would have been more serviceable; again, why should they take anyone into the tribe?
Later, all this was explained. It seems that the medicine man is averse to initiating any of his own people into the secrets and hocus-pocus of his art, as the apprentice, with the knowledge thus gained, might in time become a formidable rival. By adopting a captive this risk is obviated, as under no circumstances could he aspire to
the honors of priesthood. In the event of his escape, the only damage would be the loss of an experienced assistant. From this time I was always addressed by my new name Tah-teck-a-da-hair (the steep wind), probably from the fact that I outstripped my pursuers in my vain effort at escape. I was allowed to roam at will through the village, but I noticed that wherever I went, watchful eyes followed my every motion.

I was actuated in my rambles solely by the desire to see my wife; vain effort. I entered lodge after lodge, climbed from terrace to terrace, but my patient and loving endeavor was unrewarded. Fatigued, and with a desponding heart, I retraced my steps towards the temple.

Morning once more dawns; it is the hour of worship; groups may be seen at the doors of the different lodges; they separate, some incline their course to the river, where sparkling waters are just discernible, as the blue mist, that during the night had hung over the valley, rises upward. Filling their ollas they return, carrying the earthen vessels on their heads. Others may be seen wending their way to the temple; I, among others ascend; arriving at the top, I find a number already congregated there; they make way for me, showing a deference as new as it is unexpected. I have a fine view of the village, and what an odd look it has; what strange structures meet my view; some are one, others two, three, and even four stories in height; they resemble pyramids
with a piece of the top cut off; each upper story is smaller than that below it; the lower one serving as a terrace for the one above, and thus up to the top. The clay of which they are built is of a yellowish tinge. Leaning against each terrace is a ladder, that serves as stairs to the story above; no windows are to be seen, but doors lead into the lodge from every terrace. Those lodges occupied by warriors and chiefs are ornamented by long poles projecting from the top of the structure, from which float pennants, bearing various devices; the temple looms up over all. The corrals, in which the cattle are secured during the night, are near the houses of their owners. Close to the staff of the temple stands an altar, on which a fire is burning; and huddled in a small group near its base are a group of female captives; their forms are almost shrouded in the long striped Indian blankets

. Impelled by a resistless force I near them; one turns towards me, it is my wife; opening my arms I rush wildly forward, overturning men and women by this sudden and precipitate movement. My wife is apparently as much frightened as the others; then recognizing my voice she breaks from the group and is soon in my arms.
We were not long allowed to remain in each others arms; recovering from their surprise, the Indians seized and parted us. During the remainder of the time spent on the top of the temple, Mrs. Eastman was kept guarded and separated from Tahteckadahair, the Indian brave. There is a ]commotion, Wakometkla advances to the altar. The drum beats, all prostrate themselves; the drum again beats, and the initiatory ceremony is concluded; the crowd is motionless; all face to the east. The quartz wall that shuts in the valley, and whose pinnacles point heavenward in needle-shaped spires, brighten; the points sparkle like diamonds; a ray penetrates into the valley; the mountain suddenly seems on fire, and, as if by magic, the god of light flashes on our upturned faces, bathing the surrounding objects in a flood of glory. All nature seems jubilant. The birds carol forth their blithest songs; the river sparkles and dances in the sunlight; the drum is heard once more; the devotees prostrate themselves and bend in submissive adoration before the coming of the fiery god, Quetzalcoatl.

Saturday, 24 September 2011

Deeming this a good opportunity, I questioned him as to the intentions of our captors; to which he replied that we would be kept staked out in this barbarous way until the games and feasting, with which they always celebrated successful forays, had been completed; and then we would be put to torture and death.

"How will they kill us?" I asked.

"O, darn 'em, the varmints have as many ways as I have fingers and toes, to knock the life out of a chap; they most allus makes us run the gantlet, leastwise the Kimanch does; but ye see, they air such mighty unsartin niggers, they does a'most enything but what yer expect them ter
."

"Will we have to remain in this position until the Indians are ready to torture us?" I asked.

"'Spect so," briefly answered my neighbor.

The guard was now nearing us, and we remained silent
.

The feasting and festivities had now begun. We were unfastened and removed to the centre of the village, where a dance was about to begin. Our feet were still bound, but we could assume a sitting posture; thus situated, I saw for the first time the mamanchic. The young girls only take part in this celebration; they go through a number of graceful and intricate evolutions, finishing by forming in a semi-circle around the chief and his queen, who are seated on a terrace of the temple. I was so much more interested in trying to discover my wife among the numerous lookers on, that I paid no special attention to the dance. The performance having come to an end, we were again staked out, and our captors returned to their feasting, slaughtering fresh cattle to satisfy the demands of their appetites. Our wants were not so well supplied.

The next morning the games were renewed; this [Pg 45]time we were taken out on the prairie to witness the feats of horsemanship, performed by the braves and their visitors. These were very fine, and for the time being I forgot my own position in the interest excited in the daring feats of these children of the plains. They rode their horses at top speed; vaulting on their backs and discharging arrows with as much apparent ease as if they stood still. They went through all the evolutions of Indian warfare, and ended with a mock battle; their yells alone would have dismayed an ordinary adversary.

Thirsty and tired, I and my companions were led back to our old position and again securely fastened. Turning to Black, I said that I supposed they would open the festivities to-morrow with our torture and death; to which he replied that he "'spected they would." At least I thought, it will only be another species of torture, and we would be quickly released from it by death. Our guard now brought us some water and burnt meat, of which we were allowed to partake.

The thongs are again tightened; our guards move among us to see that all is secure; and the sentinel for the evening watch having been detailed, we are left to silence and our own thoughts—thoughts of our approaching doom, and perhaps of the loved ones far away in some Mexican border town, whose unavailing prayers are being offered up for our safety. Filled with these emotions, some poor fellow would give
expression to his pent-up feelings in a long drawn sigh; the only sound that broke upon the stillness of the night. The moon's beams penetrated into the valley; the argent rays shedding a soft and subdued light, as they pierced the mist that was rising from the river.
I knew that death was our portion, but little did I dream that on such scenes such awful morn should rise.Another morning dawned; again we were brought forth, and from the information gained from the old trapper, I knew that our time for action had come. Lying in a group on the green sward, we watched the movements of our enemies with painful interest. Our hands and feet were bound, but we were not otherwise secured, and were therefore enabled to sit up and look around us; we saw that the Indians were divested of every superfluous article of dress or ornament, that their movements might be light and unimpeded. We saw them enter the woods and return with clubs freshly cut from the trees, an ominous indication of the fate in store for us.
To the number of several hundred the savages had gathered upon the plain, and were arranging the preliminaries for their fiendish sport. We watched their preparations with a peculiar interest; at length all seemed in readiness—two rows of Indians stretched along the plain for a distance of about three hundred yards—all were armed with clubs, and stood facing each other; an interval of three or four paces ]

separating the ranks. Between these lines we had to run and receive blows in passing, from all who were quick enough to hit us. We were told that if any of our number achieved the apparently impossible feat of passing the entire line, and could reach the foot of the cliff without being overtaken that our lives would be spared. I asked the old trapper if he believed this. "Not by a durn sight," was his reply; "its all a cussed injun lie, just to make us do our puttiest; they'll roast us all the same, blast 'em." I was satisfied that the promise was of no value, even if they should adhere to it; for the fleetest runner could never pass the lines.

Several of the warriors now approached us, and untied one of the Mexicans; he was to run first. Although an athletic and active specimen of his race, he was quickly disposed of; running barely ten paces before he was stretched senseless, and brought back helpless and bleeding, while the air resounded with the wild yells of the savage bystanders. Three of the other captives soon met the same fate, and then it came my turn; I was unbound and led forward and stood awaiting the signal to begin the terrible race. Within a few moments a wild scheme had formed itself in my mind, and although fully realizing its desperate nature, I had determined to make the effort, even if I perished in the attempt. I had noticed that, with the exception of those forming the lines between which I was to run, the Indians all stood behind me;]
and for a considerable space around me the ground was entirely clear. My plan was to start as if with the intention of entering the lane of savages, but to suddenly diverge to the right or left, as might seem most expedient, and run directly down the valley, with the hope that I might be able to reach the dense and tangled forest which fringed it, and conceal myself in its recesses until I could find some way out of my rock-environed prison. As I look back at it now, I can only wonder that I should have had the hardihood to attempt it. Not an Indian among the hundreds around but knew well all the paths and windings of the wooded borders of the valley, even supposing that I were fortunate enough to reach it; but that was improbable. Among so many it was likely there would be several able to outstrip me in speed, fast runner as I deemed myself; and if overtaken, I could expect nothing but more cruel treatment than I had yet experienced. Besides, although I did not know it at the time, the valley had but two entrances, and these were constantly guarded by a watchful picket. But at the time I thought of none of these things—"drowning men will catch at straws," says the old adage—and my hastily formed plan seemed to me to promise success. Having formed my resolution I was necessitated to put it in practice at once. The Indians were already impatient for another victim, and the signal being given I started on my race for life at the top of my speed. At first I [Pg 50]ran directly for the living lane, where my enemies waited with poised clubs each eager to strike the first blow, but as I neared it I made a sudden break to the right, and gathering all my energies for one mighty effort, I broke through a group of old men and idlers who were watching the sport. Despite their efforts to intercept me I cleared them in an instant, and ran down the valley with the whole yelling mob at my heels. Some half dozen of my pursuers being swifter of foot forged ahead of their comrades, but they did not seem to gain upon me, and for a time it seemed that I would distance them entirely; but I had overestimated my strength, and to my alarm found myself growing weak, and running heavily and with painful effort.

I had now, however, nearly reached the timber, and strained every nerve to gain its welcome shadow; looking back, I saw that one of my pursuers was within two hundred yards of me, and gaining rapidly; straining every nerve, I kept up my headlong pace, but when within fifty paces of the woods and with my enemy but little further behind me, I tripped and fell, and had barely time to spring to my feet before he was upon me; he was entirely unarmed, having thrown away his club during the chase. As he rushed upon me, I met him with a blow from my fist, delivered with all the force of which I was capable. Striking him directly under the chin, it knocked him completely off his feet, and he measured his length
upon the grass.
with a spring, and was about to plunge into the thicket, when the dense undergrowth parted directly before me, and I stood face to face with an Indian of gigantic size and most singular appearance. For a moment I was completely paralyzed; not so my new opponent. Realizing the situation at a glance, he sprang upon me, and bore me to the ground with scarcely an effort. Emerging from the lethargy which had enthralled me for a moment, I struggled frantically to free myself, but in vain. Several others had now come up, and my fallen antagonist, who had been stunned for a moment, recovered himself, with his temper not at all improved by the rough handling he had received, and snatching a knife from the belt of one of the new comers, aimed a blow at me which would have ended my life on the instant, and prevented this narrative from being written. My captor seized his arm, and rebuked him so sternly, that he slunk away abashed. I was then allowed to rise to my feet, and my hands being bound, the huge Indian, who seemed to be in authority, and of whom the others evidently stood in awe consigned me to the custody of two warriors, and dismissing the rest with a wave of his hand, again disappeared in the thicket
.

Led between my two guards, I was soon taken back to the village, followed by an excited crowd of Indians, who showed a disposition to handle me pretty roughly, but their unwelcome attentions were [Pg 52]prevented by my conductors who pushed rapidly through the crowd, and soon reached the lodge in which I had previously been confined. I was soon reinstalled in my gloomy prison, and after tying me in the usual manner, my attendants left me to solitude and misery.

Bitterly disappointed by the failure of my daring scheme at the very moment when it seemed to promise success, my thoughts were the reverse of pleasant; and when my mind reverted to the fate of my wife, I suffered such mental agony, as I pray that you, kind reader, may never know.

Another night passed, and remembering the words of the old trapper, I awoke filled with the conviction that it was to be my last day on earth. The usual scanty meal was supplied to me, and about an hour later I was again brought forth upon the plain. I was soon among my companions in misfortune, and like them securely tied to stakes; but allowed to sit upright, as if the red demons wished us to fully observe the preparations now going forward.

The Torture.

Upon the level plain facing the temple, and at a short distance from it, scores of brawny savages were busily engaged planting firmly in the ground a row of massive posts; they were arranged in a semi-circle, and were about twenty in number. We saw many of the Indians go to the woods, tomahawk in hand; we heard the sounds of chopping, and saw them return with
bundles of faggots; we saw them fastening curiosly fashioned chains of copper to the posts; we observed them painting their faces and bodies in hideous stripes of red and black. It was a scene of fearful import, for we knew but too well that it was the prelude to the torture. What were my companions' reflections I knew not, for they spoke but little. But the set and stern expression that showed itself on every face, told me plainly that they fully realized the terrible drama in which they were to be the principal actors. The appearance of all was ghastly in the extreme. Travel-stained, covered with dust, and with spots of dried blood, some showing fresh and bleeding wounds—souvenirs of yesterday's rough sport—our clothing torn and disarranged, we were indeed objects of pity, calculated to excite commiseration in the breasts of any others than the brutal and sanguinary wretches who were about to put us to a terrible death. As for me, my brain was on fire; and could I but have freed myself from my bonds I would gladly have sought instant death at the hands of the nearest savage, rather than to longer endure the ever present torture of mind, and the not more acute physical suffering which I was soon to undergo
.

At last their preparations seemed completed, and the audience assembled. Camanches and Apaches alike gathered before the temple, forming a vast semi-circle
. The terraces of the temple were occupied by the older men, and upon its summit were seated a
group of men in strange costumes, the priests of Quetzalcoatl. Directly in front of the temple a sort of throne had been erected, and upon it sat the aged chief, with his subordinates grouped around him. An old Indian of most repulsive aspect, seemed to direct the proceedings, assisted by about a hundred of the younger warriors. A number approached us, we were released from our fastenings and led forward; our ragged garments were soon stripped from our bodies, and with dextrous rapidity we were bound singly to the stakes already prepared for us.

To the hour of my death I can never forget that scene. For years it haunted me, and even now, at times I start from my sleep with a cry of terror as I fancy I see again that mob of yelling, painted demons, the crowded terraces of the temple gay with the bright colors of barbaric costumes, the little band of doomed captives, the fagots, stakes, and all the terrible instruments of death. Back of all, the snow white cliffs, fringed with the dark green foliage of the pines, and Heaven's sunshine falling over all, as if in mockery of the awful tragedy about to be enacted. I wake—and shuddering, thank God that it is only a dream.

But it was all too real then. At a signal from their leader the savage executioners heaped the fagots around us, placing them at a sufficient distance to insure the prolongation of our sufferings, so that we might die
slowly, and afford them ample time to fully enjoy our agonies. The fires were lighted, and the smoke rolled up in volumes, and threatened to suffocate us and put a speedy end to our torments. In a few seconds however, as the wood got fairly blazing, the smoke lifted, and as we began to writhe in agony, a yell of delight went up from more than three thousand savage throats. The heat grew more intense; my skin was scorched and blistered; dizzy and faint, I felt that the end was near, and longed for death as a speedy escape from such terrible pain. Some of my companions, rendered frantic by their sufferings, gave vent to screams of anguish; others endured in silence
.

Mustering all my fortitude, as yet not a sound had escaped me; I had closed my eyes, and was fervently praying for the relief which I knew death must soon give me, when I was startled by a wild cry, followed by a yell of astonishment from the savage spectators. Opening my eyes I saw the same gigantic Indian who had recaptured me on the day previous, making his way rapidly through the crowd, who fell back to right and left with precipitate haste. Rushing directly towards me he scattered the blazing brands, released me as quick as thought, and dragged me to the front of the temple, while the air resounded with the yells and exclamations of the Indians. Raising his hand he hushed them into silence, and uttered a few words in the Camanche tongue; their meaning was lost upon me; I could only distinguish the word "Quetzalcoatl," which I knew to be the name of their God. But the revulsion of feeling, and the terrible ordeal through which I had passed, proved too much for my exhausted frame; I swooned and sank insensible to the earth.

How long I should have lain in this semi-comatose state I know not, had I not been aroused by the Indian who seemed to have been appointed my particular guard. Bringing me a portion of tasajoand an olla of water, he placed them on the ground beside me, and removing the thongs from my wrists left me to dispatch my unpalatable food as best I might; at noon, and in the evening, he repeated the performance. With the exception of this interruption I was left to my thoughts. My reflections were of the bitterest and most gloomy nature. From my previous knowledge of the habits and characteristics of my captors I was assured that my fate was sealed; and my death only a matter of time

.

captured white woman

These savages only captured male prisoners the better to enjoy their destruction. What astonished me most was that they had not put me to the torture on their arrival at the village. The fate of my poor wife was the profoundest mystery to me, as I had not seen or heard of her since our parting on entering the Indian town. While I was being conducted to my prison she was

hurried off to the other end of the village. The darkening gloom of my chamber informed me of the approach of night; and recognizing how important it was for me to secure all the repose possible, I prepared to retire. The preparations were of the simplest character; my feet being bound it was only necessary to stretch my form along the ground and I was in bed. I courted sleep with persistent endeavor; but my mind was a prey to such agonizing reflections that the drowsy god held himself aloof. I counted backwards, rolled my eyes from side to side in their sockets, and resorted to all the devices known to me, but with indifferent success. All through the night the howling of the village dogs, the wild note of the swan, and the dismal whoops of the gruya, could be heard; and it is very difficult even under circumstances more favorable than those in which I was then placed to sleep with these noises ringing in one's ears. Later, when a long residence with the tribe had made me familiar with these sounds, and their causes, I was not unfrequently startled by them. My imagination was constantly dwelling on my approaching fate; and I am sure I suffered enough mental agony to suffice for a score of physical deaths

.

The next morning my keeper made his entry, this time without any food for me, and I was at once struck by his altered looks; he was oiled, and streaked with paint, from the crown of his head to his waist; his head dress was composed of eagles' plumes stained red, and his limbs were encased in buckskin leggings, the seams of which were fringed with long locks of hair, which attested to his prowess, as they were composed of scalp-locks taken from the heads of his enemies slain in battle; the feet were encased in moccasins, embroidered with beads and the quills of the porcupine dyed in various colors; from his neck was suspended a collar, made of the tusks of the javali; his tomahawk hung gracefully from his waist, and a fine robe of jaguar-skins draped his back

.

Such a costume I felt sure was only worn on state occasions; and his presence filled me with apprehensions. I was not long held in suspense, for stooping over me he quickly cut my fastenings, and motioning me to rise I was presently conducted up the ladder and out into the village street.

Emerging from the darkness into the bright sunlight, I was at first unable to distinguish objects, but as soon as my eyes became accustomed to the glare, I was struck with astonishment at the scene of bustle and activity that met my gaze. Indian women, children, dogs and braves, were hurrying to and fro, seemingly intent on business of a most pressing and important character. My appearance was the signal for a succession of howls and yah! yahs! from the assembled crowd. The women clustered around me and gave expression to their hate in kicks, pinches and jeers; even the dogs snapped at my heels. After a walk of a few minutes, we cleared the skirts of the village, and shaping our course towards the river that these rebs from Timpo can easily be converted into Cavalry or Texas Rangers, just a head change then a bit of putty, you could really enhance these basic soldier types, same thing with the crescent indians shown here.ran through the centre of the valley, I was soon among a crowd of other captives.

They were composed of Mexicans, chiefly, and all bore evidence of the struggle they had passed through, before yielding up their liberty; their clothes were torn, disclosing here and there ugly gashes, from which the blood had not yet ceased to ooze.The war-club was a staple of all Great Plains tribes on the North American continent, and the Apache were no exception. It was constructed of a heavy wooden handle topped by a stone carefully shaped into an angular position perfect for striking opponents. Beyond that, however, each war-club was unique to the warrior that wielded it: the Apache would decorate their weapons with feathers, beads, precious stones, intricate carvings, and more to differentiate between different warriors’ possessions in the chaos of post-combat. The Apache shield was very similar to the European buckler – it was a small defensive device built on a lightweight wooden frame with cleaned animal hide stretched across its front. These shields were also heavily decorated with painted symbols of animals and other objects.A man among them especially attracted my attention. He was dressed in the costume of the mountain trapper, and his fur cap, fitting closely to his head, was a fit accompaniment to his tunic and leggings of dressed deerskin; his face had a peculiar expression which I could not account for, until I discovered that he had only one eye.Comanches put the prisoner to work digging a hole, telling him they needed it for a religious ceremony. When the captive, using a knife and his hands, had completed digging a pit about five feet deep, they bound him with rope, placed him in it, filled the hole with dirt, packing it around his body and exposed head. They then scalped him and cut off his ears, nose, lips, and eyelids. Leaving him bleeding, they rode away, counting on the sun and insects to finish their work for them. Later, back at their encampment, they told the story as an excellent joke, one which gained them a certain celebrity throughout the tribe.

At this time an Indian advanced toward us, bearing in his arms a quantity of small stakes; I was at loss to understand what was to transpire, when I heard my one-eyed companion mutter under his breath, "drat 'em, they be a goin' to stake us." Sure enough this was their intention; seizing us one by one, they stretched us on the turf in three files, the heads of one file resting between the feet of the row above him; driving the stakes firmly into the ground, they fastened thongs of raw hide to our wrists and ankles, and passing them around the pins, drew our feet and arms out to their utmost tension, making our joints fairly crack.Even worse fates could befall warriors brought back alive to Nermernuh encampments. Here, especially once the victim's screams established that his medicine was broken, the work was left to the women. Most observers reported that the women were far more patient and vicious tormentors than the males. It may have been the exercise of vengeance against their lot in life, but at any rate, the females destroyed the captive by the most drawn-out and hideous means they could devise. They cut off his fingers and peeled his eyes; they stretched his tongue and charred his soles, and they invariably devoted fiendish attention to his penis and testicles. The torture went on for hours, even days, so long as the body survived.

Pinioned in this way, our heads were the only moveable parts of our bodies, and our upturned faces had the full benefit of the sun's rays, being subjected at the same time to attacks of swarmsof insects. This torture was so very painful that many fainted, but the women soon brought the victims to consciousness by dashing an olla of water in their faces, and with yells of delight witnessed the renewal of the poor fellows' agonies.The protracted rape, humiliation, and murder of female captives began on the homeward journey after a raid, leaving a bloody trail behind the war party. This began when the warriors believed they had put enough distance behind them for security, and they could make a camp and light fires.

There was no taboo against tormenting women, but this rarely went beyond sexual assault, though Amerindians were known to impale women on rough-cut stakes, or cut their heel tendons and leave them in the wilderness. Purely sexual sadism seems to have been almost unknown, because there was little sexual frustration to feed it. More often than not, the captive female brought back to camp had more to fear from the jealousy of the Nermernuh women, who heaped abuse and even physical punishment on them.

I was so completely disguised in dirt, that the flies seemed to pass me by in despair; and being thus in a measure relieved, I turned my attention to my companion on my right, the trapper. He seemed to be taking things very quietly, and evinced great patience and fortitude under his trials.

The squaws were particularly attentive to him; and at the time I turned my head in his direction, two hags were amusing themselves sticking sharp pointed sticks into his body; he bore it manfully, but I saw tears of agony streaming from under his eyelids.

If there were male prisoners, the normal practice was to try to bring them back for the pleasure of the women. When this was impractical, they were killed on the trail. Since bravery was the supreme virtue among Amerindians, torture was the supreme test. The tormentors got the same psychic satisfaction from breaking a victim's spirit while they destroyed his nerves and body as they derived from mutilating the dead. However, because valor was so respected in this war culture, the tortured captive who died bravely gained honor even in the eyes of enemies, a nicety most European minds failed to grasp. The victim who was defiant to the last even won a sort of triumph: he made bad magic for his killers. There is one documented case of a nameless white man on the plains who laughed in the faces of his Nermernuh captors with complete coolness as they graphically threatened his genitals with fire and steel. Abashed, a war chief ordered him released unharmed, as having a magic too powerful to challenge.Perhaps the most readily recognizable Native North American weapon is the tomahawk; and for good reason, as it has been found in nearly every corner of the continent in some form or another. The steel “peace pipe tomahawk” was actually a European invention created to serve as essentially the first “tourist trap” by combining two Native American traditions: the peace pipe and the tomahawkUntil they acquired gunpowder weapons, the Apache relied on the ancient bow and arrow to fight at a distance. Masters of the military technology, they put it to great use against other tribes as well as invading Europeans in war-time. Traditional arrows were made from wood and tipped with razor-sharp flint, creating a powerful projectile that could tear through flesh and internal organs to lodge in bones. The Apache used the bow and arrow to feed themselves on wild game and to defend themselves in warfare, making it absolutely necessary that every man in the tribe knew how to use the offensive system as near to perfectly as was possible. However, once firearms became available to the Apache the bow and arrow was quickly fazed out of use in favor of the new, modern and more efficient technology.. This new invention became incredibly popular among the North American tribes, so much so that it is commonly believed that it was invented by the people of the New World, not the Old. The tomahawk was a vicious weapon capable of being thrown with great accuracy at distances up to ten meters away, as well as serving in melee combat as an effective killing tool. Before European steel was introduced to them the Apache used tomahawks composed of wood and sharpened stone, making for a heavy weapon that could shear flesh from bone. Oftentimes two or three tomahawks would be carried to the battlefield, with some balanced for throwing and others for personal fighting. Additionally, the tomahawks could be used alongside the Apache shield.

Presently the air was filled with yells and whoops; our tormentors rushed off pell-mell, the guards only remaining. I asked what was the meaning of this new outbreak; to which the trapper replied that he supposed it was caused by the arrival of a new lot of those "gosh darned red niggers."

The Comanches on the whole were probably the most skilled of Indian horsemen-athletic riders, expert breeders and trainers, they maintained the largest herd. They were also among the most warlike people, a hazard to voyagers through their domain as well as to settlers beyond it, frequently mounting raids into northern Mexico for slaves, horses, and women.

It was probably not surprising, this warlike tendency. It's a cultural thing. From infancy, young men were trained to become warriors. It was unthinkable for a young man to want to do anything besides gain warrior status. Those who fell short were disposed of, usually by the warriors who had raised them. There were no adult male non-warriors hanging around the Comanche camps. In another break with what the white community saw as tradition, the Comanche did not have Chiefs. Only warriors. Other warriors might follow one individual warrior so he was treated much like a chief, but there was no such title till the latter years.If a youngster kidnapped from an enemy tribe or from white settlers obtained warrior status, he was a Comanche warrior, regardless of the color of his skin or the color of his hair, and he was not considered different from the natural-born Comanche warriors. It is interesting to consider that a baby kidnapped from the Comanche's most bitter enemy, the Apaches, and then raised as a Comanche could become a highly respected Comanche warrior, or the wife of a highly respected warrior who hated Apaches.After centuries of these kidnappings, first from the other enemy tribes and then from the Spanish and other Europeans, there wasn't really a pure-bred Comanche left. What made them Comanche was their lifestyle and the way they were raised. Bloodlines had no more meaning than hair or skin color.The women wore deerskin or broadcloth dresses with wide, open sleeves and a slightly flared skirt falling to" below the knees. A shorter piece of cloth, called an "apron", was tied around the waist. They carried a fan with a wooden handle and long feathers, a "purse" that was usually beaded and wore moccasins that came up to calf level. For pictures, google Comanche Indian Dress and you'can see photos from the last Pow-wow in Oklahoma.Ys9Pk8rY